Highlights of my Week

-The gluten-free zucchini bread I made from a gigantic zucchini, as well as the pumpkin and butternut squash soup I made collaboratively with our house guest. Hurray for fall produce and a capable kitchen companion.

-Going on a 6:20am walk around the neighborhood with E last Saturday. It was just getting light, and everyone was asleep except us and a few other people, and it felt like a secret. Plus we had a really good talk, and he loves me.

-Every single E hug and kiss, especially in the morning when his hair is all messy and his breath smells like feet, but his blue eyes sparkle and warm up the whole house.

-The mini-date L surprised me with last night, babysitter included. She took me to a chocolate/coffee shop and we sat outside drinking extremely delicious hot chocolate and just talking, but it felt fresher and exciting. She looks just as beautiful (maybe even beautiful-er) outside of the house we share. Wow! Dates are fun!

-Birthday party planning for E. It is going to be AWESOME. It’s Ancient Egyptian themed and he made golden pyramid shaped invites with each of his friends’ name written in hieroglyphics. Yep, I’ve memorized the alphabet, pretty much.

-The book I am reading: The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks.

Gnomey Hat Homework

My son started Waldorf school yesterday! We were all so excited that I even blow dried his hair, and it looked really good and super extra blonde. He picked out an awesome outfit, but his top was wrinkled and he made me run it in the dryer so the wrinkles would disappear and he wouldn’t look sloppy. First graders care about that sort of thing, I guess.

So anyway, this morning, after breakfast, he informs us that he had homework that he had “forgotten” until that moment. He said all the kids have to bring in a gnomey hat, because they are going to make gnomes today. A gnomey hat? Sure, that sounds like normal homework. I’m pretty sure he made that up, because who assigns that as homework with out giving the parents a heads up? Not everyone has gnomey hat-making supplies lying around, right? I mean, I guess if you are a Waldorf family, there’s a good chance you do have felt and thread, but still. Anyway, he ran to grab the extra orange gnome hat that we made the other day for a gnome for our new nature corner, but didn’t use because it was too small. because we DO have extra gnome hats lying around. So there we go. Fake made-up homework done and done!

Yesterday E reported making beeswax honeybees, learning how to color with rectangular crayons, and he’s pretty sure he already kinda knows how to play the pentatonic flute! I let him show me on my old flute, and no, he doesn’t know how to play it. That’s ok. He was so excited to learn from his teacher that they each get their very own flute (Did he think they'd be sharing? Gross.), and eventually they will be knitting their flute cases ALL ON THEIR OWN! He made knitting needles! I didn’t have the car when I went after work to pick him up from his friend’s house, so we rode the bus. Specifically, we walked a half a mile to the bus stop, then waited for the bus for ages, then we rode the bus. And the whole time he told me about his day.

This is unusual. I have the kid who has never told me more than a few words about his school day when asked. Sure, stuff slips out, and I’ve gathered bits and pieces, but if you ask him, “How was school?” he says, “Good” or “Stupid” and nothing else. Sometimes I’ve been able to trick him by asking really odd and specific questions, like “Hey E, did Nick have string cheese in his lunch again?” And he’ll accidentally answer, “No, he had yogurt though, and I really liked the sandwich you packed. Nick called me a butt head and the teacher didn’t even notice!” or something like that. And then I know that Nick is a meanie face.

I take it as a really good sign that he talked about his day for an hour straight. Yes, it took an hour to get home via public transportation. But that hour included the MAJOR CRISIS of E’s feet getting blisters from his new school shoes. It was completely tragic, especially because he was ALSO HUNGRY, and didn’t even seen to notice the two clementines and granola bar I shoved in his mouth, because he was still STARVING, and he didn’t know which to complain about so he just moaned and sat down in the street. (Have I mentioned my child is ALWAYS hungry?) Thank goodness for his friend’ mom who handed us a container of delicious pasta with meat sauce as we walked out the door. Yay for eating dinner on the edge of the sidewalk while waiting for a bus! And yay for Waldorf school and tiny gnomey hats.

And Then I Fed My Child

Why does my child eat so much? Everyone's answer is always "Oh, he's a growing boy," but this is getting absurd. No really. I'll tell you what I did today. It's really boring.

I woke up at 8:30 am which is super late because it means I slept in 2 hours past the usual alarm, and 3 hours after those crazy birds start chirping. L had already fed the boy, but the didn't stop him from looking longingly at the eggs and sausage I made myself. Oh yea. In between waking and sharing my breakfast with him, he ate two bananas, this weird meat stick thing, a gigantic cup of orange juice, and cheese. Then after breakfast I began my weird Saturday morning Domestic Explosion, which usually involves doing all the dishes, taking out the trash, watering the garden, cleaning something that we've avoided cleaning all week (like our clothes), and baking something that most people just buy. Today I made fruit leather AND peanut butter cups. So Bottomless Pit also snacked on left-over apple sauce (fruit leather before it's cooked) and peanut butter. Then I read some Harry Potter, while the boy made himself a snack of banana slices dipped in peanut butter. Then I showered, and we went to the park and had a picnic lunch. I fed him SO MUCH FOOD, even meat! He played for a bit, then ran back to where I was sitting and said, "Do you have any more food?" I gave him a carrot. He looked at me like I had just farted in his face, but he took the carrot anyway and ate it in five seconds. Oh guess what? He was still hungry! You know that Eric Carle book about the Caterpillar? I'm pretty sure my child (or any growing six-year-old) was the inspiration. So then we played lots of hide and seek and I tried to distract his stomach by giving him gum to chew on. On our way to the CVS he said, "Hey Mama, can we get a snack?"

You know that feeling when your kid has the flu but you have to go to the grocery store, or the pharmacy, and you bring your sick pajama-wearing kid along but you are filled with this anxiety that he's gonna puke again in the middle of the store so you go as fast as you can and just hope you stop driving and rush him into the bathroom before he explodes again? I felt that way today, but opposite.

We got home and while I was prepping his dinner he made himself a weird snack of banana and melted cheese-- he does eat food other than bananas, by the way. When I was growing up, if we wandered into the kitchen when my mom was cooking and asked for a snack we were shot a filthy look and told to leave. I tried that for a few years, but gave up a few weeks ago when I realized that he still eats a huge amount of "proper" dinner right after having a weird snack. My mom always said "It will ruin your appetite." God, if only. One time I let him eat an entire bowl of ice cream and brownie BEFORE dinner and he still ate every single vegetable on his plate. Ruined appetite, my ass.

He ate dinner (two mini pizzas and a 2 glasses of a super yummy protein-filled mango smoothie), ate a peanut butter cup for dessert, then went to bed complaining that he's "starving."

No really. That's all I did today. I fed my son for 12 hours, and I read some Harry Potter.

-B